


A Tapestry of Scars

by psychotic_fangirl369



Series: Merlin Bingo 2021 Fanfics [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Finds Out About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Canon Era, Caring Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Happy Ending, Immortal Merlin (Merlin), Love Confessions, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin learns he is immortal, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Neck Kissing, Protective Merlin, Scars, Temporary Character Death, Worried Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29865210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychotic_fangirl369/pseuds/psychotic_fangirl369
Summary: “It’s okay,” he said, although it really, really wasn’t. “I’m okay. Look, all I’ve got is a scar!” And he lifted his shirt up to show Arthur the new scar from todays death.That was the wrong thing to do. Arthur paled and reached out, yanking Merlin’s shirt over his head and tossing it aside.“Hey!” Merlin grumbled, but shut up the instant Arthur’s fingers were on his chest.“So many,” Arthur murmured. “Merlin, there are so many.”“So many what?”“Scars.”Or, the one where Merlin is immortal and Arthur finds out.Written for my Merlin Bingo prompt: scars.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin Bingo 2021 Fanfics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194155
Comments: 22
Kudos: 440
Collections: Merlin Bingo





	A Tapestry of Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Here is my second Merlin Bingo fill. I hope you all enjoy it!

Merlin’s day had gone to shit. It started off perfectly normal, what with waking up the grumbling king, having a pillow and a goblet thrown at his head and then being given a long list of chores to do that would be impossible to complete without magical help. Then he’d had some errands to run for Gaius, discovered a magical, murderous beast in the forest and had attempted to get rid of it. That’s when it had gone drastically wrong. Merlin had managed to get rid of the beast, but not before getting stabbed through his stomach by the beasts sharp, spear like tail. So yes, Merlin’s day had very much gone to shit.

Merlin lay on the forest floor, staring up at the sun as he slowly bled out. He’d tried a healing spell, but he was rubbish at them, especially on his self, and it hadn’t worked at all. _I’m dying,_ he thought blearily. He wondered how long it would take for Gaius or Arthur or Gwen or any of the knights to notice that he was gone. A few days probably, what with him always disappearing to take care of something or other. Yes, it would be a few days before someone realized something was wrong and a few days after that before they found his body. He wondered if Arthur would cry.

He was jolted from his musing when he heard something trampling through the undergrowth towards him. He tilted his head and looked towards the sound. A moment later, a girl – maybe a couple years younger than himself – stumbled into the clearing. She stopped when she saw Merlin, frozen for a moment, before her eyes widened and she _curtsied._

“Emrys,” she said reverently and Merlin thought for a moment he was saved. Druids were good healers after all.

“Hello,” Merlin winced out. “Mind helping me out? I think I’m dying.”

The druid girl stared at him for a moment, before laughing. Merlin stared at her, frowning. It wasn’t funny. Surely she should care that _Emrys_ was bleeding to death. The girl slowly stopped giggling, but the smile never left her face.

“Yes. It seems you’re dying. You’ll be fine in a few minutes though,” she said offhandedly.

“And how is that?” Merlin asked through gritted teeth, the pain slowly threatening to overwhelm him.

“Why, because you’re immortal of course!”

Merlin stared at the girl. “I’m what?”

“Immortal,” she said, then her smile slowly faded. “ _You didn’t know?”_

Merlin let out a disbelieving laugh. “I am _not_ immortal. I can’t be.”

“But you are,” the girl said sadly. “Emrys means immortal one in the druid tongue. I thought you knew.”

Merlin blinked at her, before turning his head to look back up at the sky. “No. I don’t believe you.”

He heard the girl sigh. “Soon, you’ll die. And once you have, your magic will heal all that is wounded and restart your heart. You’ll see.”

Neither of them said anything after that and slowly, Merlin’s vision clouded over and he fell into the darkness.

He came back to the world with a shudder and a gasp. He felt a hand in his hair and a soft, sweet voice singing to him in hushed tones. He blinked his eyes open and slowly the druid girls face came into focus. He swallowed hard, gasping and hesitantly sat up. He looked down at his shirt. The blood was still there – so much of it – but when he lifted his shirt and looked at his flesh, all that remained of the wound was a small, fresh scar.

“I died,” he stated, looking at the girl.

“Yes.”  
“I died and came back. Will that always happen?”

She shrugged helplessly. “Yes. At least, that’s what we were told.”

Merlin blinked at her and then hastily stood up, backing away and shaking his head. “No. No, it can’t be. _I can’t be immortal._ ”

“You _are._ You just witnessed it yourself!”

“But if I’m immortal, am I even human? I’m not just a warlock or a sorcerer, I’m something else entirely. I refuse to believe that. I refuse to believe that I will be forced to stay on this earth for eternity whilst everyone and everything I have ever loved lives and dies around me. Just no.” And with that, Merlin turned on his heel and ran back towards Camelot, his heart – now beating again – racing in his chest.

Now that he knew he was immortal, he noticed that he seemed to die an awful lot. Before, he would have thought he’d simply been knocked unconscious, but now he knew the truth. Now, when he was kidnapped by bandits and beaten to a pulp, he knew he had died. When a wayward sorcerer caught him in the chest with a fireball and he blacked out, he knew he had died. When he was tasting Arthur’s food to check for poison and suddenly he was on the ground blinking at the ceiling, he knew he had died. On and on it went, and each time he would wake up with nothing but a new scar or a bruise or a cut to memorialize what had just happened.

He knew he wasn’t handling it well. For a start, Arthur was worried about him. The king kept asking him if he was all right. Just that morning, Arthur had said, “Do you want the day off, Merlin? You’re looking even paler than usual.” Which translated to desperate concern because Arthur never gave Merlin a day off. Gaius knew something was up as well. He kept giving Merlin _the eyebrow of doom_ and every time Merlin laughed it off and fled. He didn’t know how to tell anyone he was immortal. And somehow, by telling someone, he felt it would make it more _real._ All though how it could get more real than continuously dying and rising from the dead, he didn’t know.

Of course, everything went to hell a few months later when they were ambushed on a hunting trip. Arthur had dragged Merlin off into the woods, citing that he was king and if he wanted a break from kingly things, it was Merlin’s duty to accompany him. Secretly, Merlin knew this hunting excursion was for his benefit, not Arthur’s. Arthur was worried about him and in his own Arthurian way, he was trying to make Merlin feel better.

“Merlin,” Arthur had said when they had been tracking a deer for a few hours, on foot. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Merlin had glowered at him. “Nothing is wrong, sire. I am perfectly well.” A bit too perfectly all right, in fact, Merlin thought. I should be dead.

Arthur had scoffed. “I don’t believe that for a second. You’ve barely smiled these last four months. Something is wrong and I demand to know what!”

Merlin had opened his mouth to reply when the bandits had attacked. Merlin didn’t remember much of what happened, but he knew it resulted in him diving in front of a bandits sword, being stabbed (again), Arthur killing the bandits and then _this._ Arthur on his knees, hugging Merlin’s dying body to his chest and _crying._

“You’re going to be okay,” Arthur said, his voice breaking. “I order it. You don’t get to die, you bumpkin. Merlin, you idiot, why would you do that? Why would you dive in front of a sword that was meant for me?”

Merlin blinked tiredly up at his king. He was losing blood quickly and he knew he didn’t have long. He reached up a shaking hand and let his fingers brush over Arthur’s cheek, wiping at the tears. Arthur gasped and trembled, tilting his face into Merlin’s touch.

“I did it because I couldn’t let you die, you prat,” Merlin gasped out.

“But now you’re going to die,” Arthur sobbed, openly gasping and shaking as tears streaked down his face. He wasn’t even trying to hide his sorrow in his usual Arthur-like bluster.

Merlin continued to brush his fingers over Arthur’s cheek. “Yes,” he whispered, his eyes flickering as his body began to give up. He had moments left. “But then I’ll wake up again.”

He had a moment to register the confusion contorting Arthur’s face before he faded from the world once more.

Merlin woke up to the sound of crying. He was still on the forest floor and it reminded him of that day all those months ago when he first learnt the truth of his immortality. Except this time there was no singing, but instead sobbing. There were fingers in his hair and when he blinked his eyes open he saw Arthur, sat beside his body and openly crying. Arthur wasn’t looking at him, even as his fingers caressed Merlin’s head. Instead, he was turned away as though he couldn’t bear to look at him.

“How could you?” Arthur was saying as he gasped for breath through his tears. “How could you do this to me?”

It took Merlin a moment to realize Arthur was talking to him. To what he thought was Merlin’s dead body.

“You were never supposed to die for me,” Arthur choked out. “Anyone but you. You’ve always been by my side. Stupidly brave and courageous Merlin, going on quests that no _servant_ was supposed to go on. But you did it. You were always stupidly loyal. But you were never supposed to die for me.” And Arthur broke down sobbing once again.

Merlin had heard enough. With a wince, he slowly sat up, dislodging Arthur’s fingers from his hair. Arthur gasped, spun around on the grass and stared at him. Merlin hesitantly smiled at him and lifted his hand to wave.

“Hello,” he said. “So, long story short. Not. Dead.”

Arthur continued to stare at him. He had stopped crying, but his face was wet with his previous tears and his eyes were puffy. He looked wrecked.

“I don’t…” Arthur trailed off.

Merlin shrugged sheepishly. “I told you I would wake up.”

“I don’t understand,” Arthur whispered, sounding faint.

Merlin gulped. He knew he would have to explain. Properly. There was no lying his way out of this.

“I have magic,” he blurted out, thinking he might as well get this over with. “But I don’t just have magic. The druids call me Emrys and say that I’m the most powerful sorcerer ever to walk the earth. Although, technically I’m a warlock, not a sorcerer, because I was born with magic and I’ve always been able to do it, since before I could walk or talk. But a few months ago I was dying and this druid girl told me that it was okay because I’m immortal. And I didn’t believe her, but it turns out she was right and every single time I’ve died since, I wake up.” Merlin stopped abruptly, gasping for breath. He bit his lip as he watched Arthur carefully, waiting for his king to react. It was rather a lot to dump on someone.

“You said,” Arthur started, then paused. He took a breath and started again. “You said every single time you’ve died, you’ve come back. Merlin. _Merlin,_ how many times have you died?”

Merlin shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve lost count.”

“Oh my gods,” Arthur gasped, seeming to sag and sink down into the earth as though all the strength in his body was gone. “Oh my gods. Merlin.”

Merlin didn’t know what to do. “It’s okay,” he said, although it really, really wasn’t. “ _I’m_ okay. Look, all I’ve got is a scar!” And he lifted his shirt up to show Arthur the new scar from todays death.

That was the wrong thing to do. Arthur paled and reached out, yanking Merlin’s shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

“Hey!” Merlin grumbled, but shut up the instant Arthur’s fingers were on his chest.

“So many,” Arthur murmured. “Merlin, there are so many.”

“So many what?”

“ _Scars.”_

And Merlin paled, because _oh._ He was covered in scars. Not all of them from when he died, mind. But several were. And most of the rest were from times he’d nearly died whilst saving Arthur’s life.

“But I’m okay,” Merlin reminded him gently as Arthur’s fingers brushed over the scared flesh of his stomach and chest.

“I’m furious with you,” Arthur murmured, gently turning Merlin around so that he could brush his fingers over the markings on Merlin’s back. “Absolutely furious. Not only are you secretly a warlock, but you seem to be the most loyal, idiotic warlock I’ve ever known. So many, Merlin. How many times have you been injured? How many times have you _died?_ And why?”

“For you,” Merlin breathed. “For you, Arthur. Always for you. I would do anything to protect you.”

“Including die,” Arthur said grimly.

“Yes.”  
Arthur let out a choked sound and then Merlin gasped as he felt Arthur’s lips press gently kisses to his shoulder blades.

“No,” Arthur murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of Merlin’s neck. “No, I won’t accept it.”

“I always come back,” Merlin gasped out.

“But what if you didn’t?” Arthur moved so that he was once again face to face with Merlin. His fingers touched the new scar, an inch below Merlin’s heart. “What if one day you stayed dead? _I can’t lose you_.”

Merlin hesitated, before reaching out and resting a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “You won’t. And now that you know I have magic, I won’t get injured quite so much because I’ll be able to help and protect you a lot easier.”

Arthur let out a half laugh-half sob and reached up to wind his fingers in the hair at the nape of Merlin’s neck.

“Good. Because I don’t want you to receive any more scars from dying to protect me. Understood? When I thought you were dead…” he stopped and swallowed, his face broken. “I can’t go through that again.”

Merlin wanted to say _you won’t,_ but he couldn’t. Because if it came down to it and the only way to protect Arthur was to die, he would do it. So instead, he moved his hand from Arthur’s shoulder to his neck and pulled until they were sat before each other with their foreheads touching.

“You’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would,” Merlin said after a few moments.

Arthur snorted. “If me being a crying mess is good, then okay.”

Merlin laughed, his fingers flexing against Arthur’s neck. “I was worried you’d hate me or kill me, so…”

Arthur’s grip in Merlin’s hair tightened. “ _Never,”_ he breathed, desperate. “Merlin,” and Merlin shivered at the almost reverent way Arthur said his name. Merlin shifted ever so slightly and brushed his nose against Arthur’s.

“I love you,” Merlin said, softly, worshipfully.

And Arthur smiled brilliantly and even though his face was red and puffy and streaked with tears, Merlin thought that he had never looked more beautiful. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! xx


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